


The Child

by seraf



Series: And then there was war [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Apocalypse, BAMF Claire Novak, Fire, Gen, Heavenly Weapons, Hunter Claire, Post-Episode: s05e22 Swan Song, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2014-12-01
Packaged: 2018-02-27 19:23:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2703644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seraf/pseuds/seraf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Claire Novak is fourteen years old. And she's been managing just fine, thank you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Child

_Dear Mom,_

_It's been three months since Michael burnt down the camp we were staying in._

_I still don't know where you are, but I hope you're alright._

Claire Novak was leaned up against the wall of what used to be a typical suburban house, now half-destroyed. (How, she didn't know. Floods, fire, ice, lightning, termites, the possibilities weren't exactly appetizing.) There was a tarp nailed over her head that kept her dry in the downpour that was currently streaming down, as well as, more importantly, the angel wards she had set up around her, and the ring of salt she was also sitting in.

_I've managed pretty well, actually. Been travelling around as much as I could. I can fight back against them too, now._

There was a satchel, plain brown leather, sitting next to her, looking a bit worse for the wear- a few discolored stains and a few fraying edges, but it was very important to Claire. It held the few essentials that she had to carry with her everywhere.

_There are so many dead angels. You almost start to wonder if they'll soon start going extinct. But on the bright side, it was pretty easy for me to find a blade._

That was one of Claire's essentials- the blade that currently sat next to her as she scribbled down the note. Three cornered and deadly sharp, it never seemed to need a cleaning, which she appreciated, along with it's apparent inability to rust. She had yanked it off an angel corpse a few states back. 

She hesitated in her writing, wondering if she should really write this in a letter, even if it was one that wouldn't be sent.

_There's something else. I'm looking for Cas- wondering if he could give Dad back, you know? If Dad even wants to come back._

She smirked, remembering the incident. He seemed to recognize her, as well- never a good sign, especially not after what had happened to her all that time ago. Her arms shuddered some at the memory of starlight echoing around her body. 

Almost without thinking, she touched her finger to the hot wax bubbling down the side of the candle that was solely undertaking the job of lighting her small space. The hot wax coated the tip of her finger, and burned, leaving a blister under the now cooled wax. She withdrew her hand and peeled off the wax, tossing it behind her absentmindedly, and relaxing some for the stimulation.  

Ever since she had been possessed by Castiel, whenever she thought of that incendiary moment, she had felt the need to feel something else; everything felt numb nowadays, and this was her attempt to feel  _something._

She tapped the burned finger on her knee as she watched the scene around her: her raggedy not-house, adults and teenagers making their way through the buildings with expressions that were either fierce or tired and worn; or some combination of both.

_I remember complaining about moving once, Mom. I didn't think I'd have to become migratory._

This was not the first ramshackle little tent she'd built out of the remains of a house and a tarp, or sometimes even less. The group of humans that she was now with ended up moving about once every two weeks- trying to stay away from the angels, to the most extent that that was possible.

She managed to even stay ahead of  _them_ sometimes, staying alone in a house that had a roof and four walls for once, or some nice patch of forest that hadn't been touched by the celestial as of yet.

She looked forward to those times. They were peaceful, and she could sometimes forget that, for all she knew, she was an orphan in a dying world.

_I'm doing alright, Mom. I hope, wherever you are, you're managing, too._

_Love, Claire_


End file.
